


Leap of Faith

by Clea2011



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Canon Era, Crisis of Faith, Execution, Fire, M/M, Magic, Near Death Experiences, Witch Hunts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:15:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22980829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clea2011/pseuds/Clea2011
Summary: Magic was illegal in Camelot, punishable by death.  But what if the sorcerer was someone Uther knew and cared for?What if it was Arthur?
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 39
Kudos: 476
Collections: Hurt/Comfort Bingo - Round 10





	Leap of Faith

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the February challenge for hurt comfort bingo. Prompts were: witch hunt, dungeons, near death experience, crisis of faith.  
> Thanks to Cam for the super-quick beta! You're a star!
> 
> Please note that there is threat of execution by fire in this. I can't find any suitable A03 tags to mark this.

Sorcery was the root of all evil. Uther had known that for decades. 

He was proud of Camelot and the fierce stance his kingdom had taken to purge the land of the unnatural craft. Arrests had been few and far between for several years now. Sorcerers knew better than to set foot in the kingdom and even those foolish enough to do so were rarely suicidal enough to actually practice witchcraft.

So, the woman standing before him with hate in her eyes was an anomaly. An abomination, as they all were, but also a curiosity. She lived in the lower town, had done for many years. There was no good reason why she should suddenly have decided to out herself as a witch, yet she had been caught quite openly out in the fields beyond the castle walls, magically enhancing the crops. 

Her actions had produced a very early bumper harvest, but Uther was going to have it all burned. There was no way that eating sorcerous corn could possibly be healthy. Why, it might even somehow ensure more sorcerers were born in Camelot. No, there would be a poor crop that year, and it was all that witch’s fault. Still, she had been hunted down and captured, and now like all sorcerers before her she would pay.

One of the worst things about sorcerers was the way that they tended to stare at him so defiantly when he put them on trial. This one wasn’t any different, she glared back at him as he pronounced her sentence.

“Dara of Merador, you have been found guilty of practicing sorcery. The punishment for this crime is death. You will be burned at first light.”

“Oh no, Uther Pendragon,” she told him calmly, still meeting his gaze steadily. “It will not be me who burns. You need to know what it is like to suffer like you have made so many of your people suffer. You have punished innocent men and women who have never done anything to harm anyone. Have you never thought that they were somebody’s daughter? Somebody’s son? Some had tried to use their magic to help others, and you burned them for it. Sorcery is not evil. But you are, Uther Pendragon! You are!”

“Seize her!” Uther roared at his guards. “Take her to the dungeons!”

The witch smiled at him almost pityingly. Then she turned away from him, raising her hand and chanting steadily in a language he did not know. All the while her eyes glowed the wicked golden colour that always marked out sorcerers. It was disgusting, repugnant.

“Guards!” Uther yelled again. But it was too late.

Beside him Arthur cried out and staggered as if he had been hit. Uther turned towards his son, reaching for him instinctively. Arthur was the most precious thing in the world to him, even if he did find it hard to express that sentiment often. The sight of his son and heir in obvious pain filled him with fury.

“Kill her now!” he ordered. “Kill the witch!”

Merlin, Arthur’s sometimes useless manservant, was at Arthur’s side, holding him up and talking quietly to him. On occasion Merlin could be useful and brave, and although he was foolish he was also unquestionably loyal. It was the main reason Uther allowed him to stay on in his role. It was also why Uther turned a blind eye to the more _unsuitable_ aspects of Merlin’s relationship with Arthur. 

“She’s gone, Sire,” Sir Leon told Uther nervously. “She vanished the moment after she injured Prince Arthur.”

It wasn’t really surprising. Uther had seen many of them escape that way over the years. And although Arthur was leaning heavily on Merlin, at least he was still standing.

“Search for her!” Uther ordered. “Scour the town. Send out patrols. She can’t have gone far.”

Leon nodded and immediately strode out of the throne room, signalling to several of the other knights to follow him. Uther did not give the witch another thought. Leon was an exceptionally fine knight and if anyone could track her down then Leon would. But, most likely, he knew the woman would never be heard from again. And so Uther concentrated his entire attention on his son.

“Are you harmed?” he asked. When Arthur didn’t immediately answer, Uther looked to Merlin for a response.

“He was hit by a spell,” Merlin told him.

Obviously it was going to be one of Merlin’s useless days.

“I can see that!” Uther snapped. “Arthur, speak to me. What did she do to you?”

Merlin opened his mouth and for a moment Uther thought the boy might actually be stupid enough to point out the spell a second time. But perhaps he was learning because he thought better of it and kept quiet.

“Arthur?” Uther asked, reaching to take his son’s hand. And that was when he noticed it.

Arthur’s hand was gently sparking, as if it were actually on fire. When Uther looked more closely he could see that there were little flames at the tips of Arthur’s fingers and even as he watched they formed some terrible, unnatural thing that looked like a tiny golden fiery dragon.

Merlin let out a horrified gasp, just at the same moment as Uther did.

“Sorcery!” Uther cried.

“No! It was the witch, she cursed him!” Merlin assured him. He seemed to have recovered from the shock faster than Uther had. “Your majesty please! It’s not Arthur’s fault.”

“Of course it isn’t Arthur’s fault! Do you think I’m as stupid as you are, boy?” Uther snapped. “This will just be momentary.” He waited a moment or two, but the dragon simply floated there, seeming almost to mock him. “Stop it now, Arthur.”

Arthur shook his head. “I can’t. I don’t know how. It feels so… natural to have it there.”

“As if it were part of yourself,” Merlin sighed sadly. The idiot.

“It will never be part of him!” Uther roared. “Simple-minded fool, do you not know what you’re saying? I should send you to the stocks, see if the peasants can knock some sense into you!”

“It’s not Merlin’s fault, Father,” Arthur said quickly. “Please… this is all me. And you cannot treat me any differently than you would anyone else. If it had been Merlin that she had struck, and he was standing here showing all signs of being a sorcerer…”

There it was again, that look between the two of them. If Uther hadn’t known better he would have said it was tender, loving. But the servant was just a poorly hidden bedwarmer for the prince. If he were anything else Uther would have had him executed on the spot. Arthur would need to find a queen one day, produce heirs. But that wasn’t the pressing issue at that moment.

“It is _not_ some servant that she has struck down, it is you, my son. The law does not apply.”

Arthur’s head jerked up at that statement, and he met Uther’s gaze steadily. The fire dragon flickered dangerously but still did not vanish. “Our laws must be fair, and must be seen to be just. The same for all people no matter their status. The same laws for you and for me.”

It was a fine thing to say but hardly practical, Uther thought. He wondered who had filled his son’s head with such idealism. It didn’t bode well for Arthur becoming a strong and respected king when the time came. People would override him at every turn.

“You are the crown prince of Camelot.”

“And it appears that I now also have magic,” Arthur told him calmly. “We have to uphold the law.”

The law, which declared sorcery punishable by death. Uther had written it himself. Not in his wildest dreams had he thought this situation would happen.

“Never!” Uther exclaimed. “You are my son, you are the heir to the throne. You are _not_ a sorcerer. Surely this is only temporary. We will find a cure. You!” he pointed at Merlin, who immediately looked terrified and oddly guilty at the same time. “Go and fetch Gaius! Run, boy!”

Merlin gave one last scared look at Arthur, and then ran off to find his mentor.

\---

Gaius was no help.

It was a shock, really, because Uther had come to rely on his old physician to put things right when needed. They never called it sorcery, what Gaius did. It was waved off as medical practice or something. Uther always turned a blind eye, because if he hadn’t then the kingdom would have been doomed many times over. But it was magic and Uther knew it. That was why the books in the forbidden section of the library had been locked up rather than burned. Sometimes they were needed.

“There must be something you can do!” Uther repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time. 

Arthur was sitting quietly, patiently allowing Gaius to examine him. That serving boy was hovering at his side as always. And the two of them were _looking_ at each other again in that way that they had. Really, if Arthur had to sleep with a male servant then the least he could have done was be discreet. Those two were anything but. 

“I cannot cure magic ability as if it were a fever or something, Sire,” Gaius pointed out. “If I could then the penalty for magic use in Camelot would surely be extraction rather than death. Sorcerers would be queuing at my door for a cure.”

“Perhaps they all were no more able to prevent having it than I am,” Arthur suggested. He’d managed to stop conjuring up the dragon and the flames, but his eyes still kept transforming from blue to gold, clearly marking him as a sorcerer. He was taking the whole thing very calmly, Uther thought proudly. At least in that Arthur was not shaming the Pendragon name. But the sorcery was an almost insurmountable problem. 

“Perhaps,” Gaius agreed.

“Nonsense! Witches have stood in this very room gloating over their craft!” Uther told them. “Gaius, find a way. Anything at all, I don’t care what you do. Even… even if you have to recruit a _sorcerer_ yourself!”

“Sire…” Gaius began to protest, but Uther held up a hand to silence him.

“No. I don’t want to hear your objections. Arthur must be cured of this… affliction. I know how loyal you are, Gaius. You have always been a true friend and a powerful ally in the fight against magic. I know I’m asking you to go against all we’ve ever worked towards. But I also know that you, more than anyone, have people that you could go to for help with this.”

Gaius looked deeply troubled, but then he often did. Uther had chosen to ignore it many times, and things had always worked out.

“You cannot cure magic,” was all Gaius said. “I am sorry, Sire. I do not know anyone who could do this.”

“But it’s undoing a spell!” Uther protested. “Arthur hasn’t learned it, he hasn’t chosen that path.”

“But I have it, Father,” Arthur told him calmly. It was remarkable just how well Arthur was taking the situation really, Uther thought. “How do you know that many of those other people that you’ve put to death over the years actually chose to have magic? Some of them might have had a spell cast on them just like I have. Or…” And he was looking at his servant _again,_ Uther noticed, “they might have simply been born with it. It wasn’t their choice.”

Merlin swallowed, nervously at that. At least the boy had some sense, Uther thought. Merlin could see the danger in what Arthur was saying. It was as if the witch had cast a spell on Arthur’s personality too.

“Perhaps if Arthur didn’t use the magic, Sire,” Gaius ventured. “He could renounce it and people would be none the wiser.”

“As you have done,” Uther noted. “It isn’t ideal, but yes, you are correct. Arthur, Gaius will mentor you until you have this… affliction… under control. And then you shall never use it again.”

“And what if I can’t control it?” Arthur asked. “What if I decide that I _want_ to use it?”

For a long moment Uther gazed at his son, unable to reconcile this disobedient sorcerer with the proud warrior Uther had raised. Surely this was all part of the spell? Arthur could not possibly mean what he was saying.

“Go back to your rooms, Arthur,” he ordered, turning away, unable to look at the abomination that his boy had become. “Clearly this has been a shock to you and you need time to recover. Gaius, go with him. You should start tutoring immediately.”

Gaius bowed his head. “Yes, my king.” He started to back away, but Arthur didn’t follow.

“We would be stronger if we used magic,” Arthur told Uther. “You know that we would. At the moment we could be defeated so easily, no matter how brave and skilled our knights are.”

It was as if Arthur were deliberately trying to vex him. Uther looked away, pressing his fingertips down on the bridge of his nose, trying to relieve the rising headache he could feel approaching. Arthur had always seemed to be fairly bright, and yet he now appeared to not be taking the seriousness of his current condition to heart at all.

“Go, Arthur,” Uther ordered again. “Magic is forbidden for a reason.”

“But…”

“Just go!” Uther roared. “And you! Boy!” he pointed at Merlin. “Wait here!”

Finally Arthur looked worried. Typical that it would be because of the useless serving boy. “Father, Merlin has done nothing wrong.”

“I know. Leave!”

Arthur and Merlin exchanged fearful looks, but it was Merlin who gestured to Arthur to go. Merlin who he obeyed. It angered Uther, but he recognised that this was not the time to act on it. Merlin, after all, could be useful. But soon enough Merlin was going to have to be dealt with. It wouldn’t do for a servant to have too much influence over the heir to the throne. Unless it suited Uther.

As soon as the door closed behind Arthur and Gaius, Uther spoke again.

“I suppose you are wondering why I’ve made you stay behind?”

Merlin swallowed nervously, his adams apple bobbing as he did so. “Yes Sire.”

“I won’t waste time. I see, and I do not approve of the influence that you have over my son. If I ever find that you are responsible for his views on magic then rest assured you’ll be executed on the spot. Am I clear?”

“Yes Sire.” 

Merlin looked fearful, and Uther wondered if he had just touched a nerve. But that was something else to deal with later. For now Merlin could be useful.

“Arthur cannot be seen to have magic. For some reason he chooses to listen to you. So, you will convince him that he is to hide his affliction and never, ever to use it. If I find that he has not done so then it will you that I hold responsible. You will be the one to suffer the punishment in his stead. Am I clear?”

“Yes Sire. You’ll execute me if Arthur practices magic. Perfectly clear.”

“Good. Because if he gives me no choice then I will have to obey the law even with Arthur himself. So make sure you convince him. And Merlin?”

Merlin really did look like a terrified rabbit, Uther thought. Perhaps that was the appeal for Arthur? It wasn’t anything he really wanted to think about.

“I don’t care what Arthur does with you behind closed doors. But don’t make the mistake of thinking any servant will ever be anything but expendable. Particularly if they try to bring shame on the Pendragon name. Am I clear on this too?”

“Yes Sire,” Merlin nodded frantically. “But I would never…”

“Silence!” Uther held up his hand. “And remember, Arthur is never to use magic or it will be your head! Now go!”

Merlin pretty much ran out of the room, almost colliding with Sir Leon who was on his way in. 

“Sorry! Sorry!” Uther heard Merlin mutter as he headed out. Leon didn’t appear at all fazed by it. Used to the idiot, probably.

“Sire,” Sir Leon came in, stopped and gave a respectful bow. A fine knight, Uther thought. Respectful, honourable and loyal. Also, he was a noble. If only Arthur had taken up with him instead of that ridiculous boy.

“What is it?”

“My apologies for disturbing you, but Lord Agravaine has just arrived. He wishes to speak with you.”

That was all Uther needed, really. Agravaine, his brother-in-law, was never a welcome guest. The man was tiresome and always stayed longer than was necessary. Uther had to be civil, after all Agravaine would doubtless mention Ygraine and how much they both loved her at every possible opportunity, the accusation that Uther was responsible for her death never far from the surface although Agravaine never came out and said it. With Arthur in his current unfortunate state it was the worst possible timing. But Uther could hardly turn him away.

“Show him in,” Uther sighed. 

He wondered if it was too early for wine.

\---

“You have to leave,” Merlin insisted as soon as he got back to Arthur’s chambers. 

Gaius and Arthur had been sitting talking quietly, but Merlin burst into the rooms, a whirl of energy. 

“I’m not leaving,” Arthur told him, getting to his feet. “Gaius and I have been discussing what we should do.”

Merlin shook his head, hurrying across the room and opening up Arthur’s closet. It was typical, Arthur thought, that Merlin would just ignore him. Nothing changed, even with Arthur now having magic too. He had thought that perhaps Merlin might have been a bit more excited about it. After all, Arthur was carrying out an impromptu yet _brilliant_ plan to legalise magic once more. He hadn’t expected to suddenly have the opportunity, but he was determined to grasp it with both hands.

“I’ll start packing.” Merlin started rummaging through the clothes. “We need to hurry, before your father decides these rooms are too luxurious for a sorcerer and locks you up in the dungeons.”

But Arthur shook his head, and sat back down on the edge of his bed. “No, Merlin. I’m not running. Leave all that and come and talk about how we can use this to best advantage.”

“Advantage?” Merlin spluttered. “Arthur, magic is illegal! There’s no advantage to this! Your father hates sorcerers! How do you know you won’t be the next one down in the courtyard getting an all-over crispy tan?”

“Merlin!” Gaius protested. “Uther would never do that to his own son.”

“He would! He told me he would if he had to. Oh,” Merlin smacked himself on the forehead with the heel of his hand, then turned around to glare at them both. “And he’ll execute me first, because he has this mad idea that I can persuade you never to use that magic you’ve got! He thinks… and this is really good, you’ll laugh… he thinks _I_ can influence you! As if you ever listen to me!” 

“Clearly he’s deranged,” Arthur agreed. “But Gaius is right, he’s not going to execute me. So if I just keep on using magic then he’s got to change the law and you’ll be safe.” It really did seem quite simple and straightforward to Arthur. Genius, if he did say so himself.

“ _You’ll_ be safe?” Gaius raised an eyebrow at Merlin. “Whatever does _Prince Arthur_ mean by that, Merlin? Why would he think _you_ would be safe?”

“Merlin has magic,” Arthur supplied helpfully. “As you know.”

Gaius did not look happy but simply kept looking at Merlin. Arthur was glad he wasn’t getting the same expression fixed on him. Merlin was holding his ground though.

“Yes, Arthur knows. And you _really_ don’t want to know how he found out.”

It had been during a particularly energetic sex session when the bed had levitated several feet up into the air, but that was definitely not information that needed to be shared with Gaius. Arthur had nearly had heart failure at the time, but he’d got over it and had soon been able to see the many benefits and opportunities that magic could bring. And now, having it himself… it was amazing! He couldn’t wait to start learning to use it.

“No, I most definitely do not,” Gaius agreed dryly. It was possible that the eyebrow went even higher.

Merlin did at least have the grace to blush, and turned quickly away from Gaius’ accusing expression to face Arthur instead. “But never mind about that! You can’t keep using magic, Arthur! Your father says he’ll execute _me_ if I can’t persuade you not to keep using it. What part of that wasn’t clear?”

“He won’t actually do that,” Arthur said confidently. “He’s just threatening you so that you’ll keep doing what he wants.” He knew his father. King Uther was full of bluster and rage, but he wouldn’t actually execute someone without a good reason. “If he’d found out about your magic then you could worry, but as he hasn’t, and as there’s only me with magic…”

“Are you insane?” Merlin practically screamed at him. “Have you met your father? Gaius, tell him!”

“Merlin is correct, Arthur. You need to be careful. Now, we’ll need to teach you how to manage what magic you have, and how to keep it hidden. But in the meantime it would be best if you stayed in here, out of the way of your father.”

“He’ll come around,” Arthur insisted. “It will all be perfectly fine.”

And that was when the door opened and Sir Bedivere appeared to escort him to the dungeons.

\---

Agravaine du Bois was a highly irritating man, Uther thought. It was often very difficult to imagine that he was Uther’s beloved wife Ygraine’s brother. The two siblings could not have been less alike. Worse, Uther had assumed that Agravaine would be sympathetic on hearing that his only nephew had fallen victim to a horrific spell. He had thought that Agravaine might have had some sensible ideas on what could be done to help. How very wrong he had been. Agravaine’s advice was unhelpful at best.

“I can’t kill my own son!” Uther spluttered. “This is Arthur we’re talking about!”

Agravaine looked quite affronted. “Well, as I see it you have no choice, Uther. Obviously I am heartbroken to have to point this out as I love Arthur dearly but it would be hypocritical in the extreme to spare your own son when so many others have died. There would be uprisings, riots. Your kingdom could be overthrown. No, it’s tragic, but I don’t see what else you can do.”

Uther was rarely lost for words. But he had no answer for Agravaine. The man had a point, but the consequences of following through with what he was saying were unbearable. 

“It’s difficult, I know,” Agravaine continued. “My dear brother-in-law, you know that I am here for you throughout this.”

“If it were anyone but Arthur…”

“But it _is_ Arthur,” Agravaine pointed out, managing a pitying half-smile as he said it. Uther wanted to punch him. “And we both know that Ygraine would never have wanted him to end up like this. It would be a kindness, a tribute to her memory.”

Ygraine had held her son once, briefly, gazing at him with all the love in the world. 

“Ygraine would have wanted him to live.”

Agravaine kept that patronising almost-smile in place. He looked down at his hands briefly, then back up at Uther. “Do you think… and I hesitate to suggest this... but do you think that perhaps the witch cast more than one spell here?”

Uther frowned. “She attacked Arthur and then vanished.”

“But you are not being as vigilant as you normally are against the great evil that is sorcery, Uther. Do you think that perhaps she had already cast a spell making you more amenable to the idea of magic? I only say this because you seem so conflicted.”

“It’s my son’s life we’re talking about!” Uther roared. “Of course I’m conflicted! Wouldn’t you be?”

Agravaine put his hands up defensively, stepping back from the king. “Of course, and as you know Arthur is my dearest nephew, my last surviving family member. I want nothing more than to see him well. But are you sure that is still Arthur?”

“What?” Uther snarled irritably. “Of course it’s Arthur!”

Again that smile. Uther wondered if anyone would notice if Agravaine suddenly disappeared. Only Sir Bedivere and Sir Leon were standing guard. They were loyal enough. Perhaps they’d help him?

“Is it though? Perhaps the witch spirited the real Arthur away when you cast the spell and this is some sorcerer sitting in his place. Not your son at all. Arthur couldn’t possibly have magic. I have heard of such spells. The victim is hidden away, unable to be recovered until the changeling in their place has been destroyed.”

Uther considered this. It was possible, he had seen such things done himself over the years. And yet the man who had stood beside him after the spell was cast looked so much like Arthur. He sounded so much like Arthur.

“Arthur would _never_ condone the use of magic,” Agravaine persisted. “You raised your son well.”

“This is true,” Uther murmured.

“Perhaps, just to be on the safe side, he should be kept somewhere more secure than his rooms? Just in case it isn’t actually Arthur up there,” Agravaine suggested gently. “Better to be safe than sorry.”

Uther regarded him for a few moments. He didn’t want Agravaine to be right. But if he was, and if the real Arthur was trapped somewhere by sorcery, there wasn’t a moment to lose.

And if that wasn’t the case, Arthur would understand. 

Uther gave a heavy sigh. 

“Bedivere?”

The older knight stood to attention. “My king?”

“I have a task for you.”

\---

Arthur had spent his first hour in the dungeon assuming that his father would come down and let him out. Perhaps his father would tell Arthur that the incarceration was all just to teach him a lesson and that all would be well.

Uther did not appear.

Two hours passed, then more. The sun set outside and a chill settled in the dank cell. Still no Uther.

“He probably thinks staying overnight will be a better punishment,” Arthur assured Merlin. Merlin was there with him, although not arrested himself he had gone down to the dungeons with Arthur and had then refused to leave his master’s side. The loyalty and love was touching. “He’s done it before.”

But every time Uther had decided Arthur needed a night in the cells over the years, Uther had come down several times to deliver a lecture. This time was different. Arthur tried not to worry. In the morning he would be free, he was sure of it.

“We should leave, right now,” Merlin insisted. “Get out while we can.”

“What would that achieve? It won’t bring back magic to the land.” Arthur lazily played with the little tiny lights that he had found he could conjure from his fingers. It wasn’t a useful spell, but it was fascinating and pretty. A taste of things to come. “Stop worrying, Merlin. Teach me how to control this new ability.”

Merlin made an exasperated sound, and started pacing the cell. “We need to get out of here,” he repeated.

Arthur wondered if he was right. But… “Not yet. Let’s see how this plays out.”

He didn’t think he’d ever seen Merlin look so angry with him.

\---

The next day, Leon was the first to visit Arthur in the dungeons. He had, after all, known Arthur the longest out of all the knights. If it wasn’t for Merlin then Arthur would even have considered Leon his closest friend. Closest amongst the knights at any rate. It was noticeable that Leon hadn’t been the one sent to take him down there in the first place. Leon might have refused. Arthur hoped he would have, anyway.

Leon ducked his head as he entered the cell where Arthur was being kept. The door was a little too low for such a tall man. He looked around, obviously uncomfortable with the whole situation, then chose to sit down on the floor next to his friend.

“Not as comfortable as my chambers,” Arthur commented. “It’s good to see you, Leon.”

Leon nodded his head, unsmiling. “You should not be down here, Sire. This is an error of judgement. You are a victim of the sorcery, not the perpetrator. The idea that you would harm Camelot or its people…”

“And yet here I am,” Arthur pointed out. “If only my powers really were something I could control properly, I could break out of here, overthrow my father, declare magic legal and set myself up as king. But they are not, and I would not do that anyway.”

“It’s not right,” Leon insisted. “You are a good man, Arthur. Nobody wants to see you executed. I don’t believe that even your father wishes that, yet you are giving him no choice. He would have spared you, if you hadn’t insisted on embracing magic. He still would, I think. Even with your uncle pouring poison into his ears.”

“My uncle?” Arthur asked sharply. “Agravaine is here?”

“He arrived yesterday afternoon. We had hoped he would plead your case, but instead he has taken the other side and is insisting that the king must follow the law and sorcery is evil. He says that you are some kind of changeling and that the real Arthur is hidden away.”

“Arthur…” Merlin growled warningly. “We need to get out of here!”

“My father won’t believe that,” Arthur insisted, but he felt less convinced than he had done. A changeling? There was no way to prove that, one way or another.

“I think that Merlin is right, Arthur,” Leon told him. “I believe that Agravaine wishes you dead. I don’t know why. Have you wronged him in some way?”

Arthur couldn’t understand it. “I’m his sister’s only child. He’s always been distant, but kind. There have been gifts on occasion. Why would he want me dead?”

“Because it would kill your father,” Merlin replied. “Once he realises what he has done it would destroy him.”

“It would leave an empty throne,” Leon confirmed. “The king has no other heir. Someone else must be behind this. Someone who would benefit from a weak Camelot.”

“Or perhaps Agravaine just wants to be king,” Merlin sighed. “Some people do. People who shouldn’t ever be in charge of anything.”

It wasn’t something Arthur had ever given much thought to. Becoming king had always been an inevitable destiny for him, something that he had no choice in. Secretly he thought that if he _had_ been given a choice then he might have opted for something else, something useful and productive like owning a farm and working hard to make his own way in the world. But that hadn’t ever been an option, not for Arthur.

“I would support you,” Leon said carefully. “If you wanted to leave. Enough of us together would be able to get you out safely. You have many friends, Arthur.”

“Nobody wants to see you die,” Merlin added. “This is stupid, Arthur. Do as Uther asks, hide your magic. You can bring magic back to the land once you’re king.”

Leon nodded eagerly. “Merlin’s right. Don’t throw your life away on this.”

Arthur regarded them both coldly. He was particularly disappointed with Merlin’s reaction because it was Merlin and others like him that Arthur was trying to save. “And how many innocent people will die in the meantime? People who were only trying to help, who weren’t using magic for anything bad? Good citizens. No, I’m making a stand. I know my father. He’s going to come around on this.”

Arthur could tell from the expressions on both Leon and Merlin’s faces that they weren’t convinced. Their lack of faith in Uther was depressing. And although he would never admit it, Arthur’s own faith was diminishing fast. 

\---

After Leon, several of the other knights visited. Each of them had words of support for Arthur, though Leon was the only one who actually offered to help him escape. Leon had also threatened to leave Uther’s service if the execution happened. Until that day Arthur had never realised quite what a completely loyal friend the knight was. 

All through the visits Merlin sat stony-faced at Arthur’s side. He rarely commented except to agree with all of those who told Arthur to renounce his stance on magic and beg his father’s forgiveness. Arthur could feel his disapproval, even when Merlin said nothing.

“I don’t want you to die for me,” Merlin told him after Sir Gareth had departed. “I know you think this is noble and brave, and if I could love you any more than I do then this would make me do so. But Arthur, _please.”_

The imploring look on Merlin’s face was almost enough to sway Arthur. But he was determined to see it through. His father would see reason.

“You and your father are both as stubborn as each other!” Gwen exclaimed when she visited. She’d brought food from the kitchen. Audrey the cook had sent down an entire feast for Arthur, Gwen had needed a couple of the other servants to help her carry it. But when they’d gone Gwen lingered behind, just as determined as Leon had been to have her say.

“King Uther executed my father,” she reminded Arthur as soon as the others were out of earshot.

“Yes and I’m so sorry Gwen. And that’s why I have to make a stand, to stop that ever happening again.” Arthur felt as if he had explained that a hundred times over that day. 

“I don’t want to see the same thing happen to any of my friends!”

“I didn’t realise we were friends, I thought you worked for the harpy!” Arthur quipped. 

“Oh Arthur!” Gwen rushed forward and hugged him, then just as quickly let go, embarrassed, and rushed from the cell. He could hear her crying as she hurried away.

Merlin frowned at him. “Doesn’t that tell you anything?”

It told him that Gwen, who was possibly the sweetest, kindest person in Camelot, had cried and it was Arthur’s fault. He felt a bit guilty but he wasn’t going to let Merlin know that. 

“It tells me that I’m doing the right thing. Gwen’s father died for no reason and left that poor girl all alone in the world. I’m doing this for Gwen and her father.”

He took a piece of pie and bit into it, just for something to do rather than say anything more. It tasted of nothing, but he forced it down. All the time he could feel Merlin’s gaze on him. Arthur didn’t look up. He couldn’t.

\---

Uther still didn’t show his face.

At the very end of the first full day in the dungeons, long after the sun had set, Morgana came down to see him. She gave a soft sigh as she was let into his cell, then ran across and pulled him into a warm hug.

“Oh Arthur, what are you doing?” she asked. “This is dangerous behaviour, even for you!”

It was the sort of reaction that he had expected from her, and he just gave her the same response that he was giving everyone else.

“My father’s stance on magic is wrong. I’m trying to make him see that. If no actual harm has been done by a magic user then there should be no reason to execute them.”

That made her hug him tighter, but when she released him he could see her troubled expression. 

“I agree with what you’re saying, I really do. Gods, you have no idea how much I agree with you. But Arthur, magic users need you to live! We… _They_ need you to live and become king, and then you can make your own laws! You can end this. But you can’t do that if you’re dead!”

“She’s right, you know she is!” Merlin chimed in. Again, Arthur had expected it. He tried to ignore Merlin.

“I’m locked up, not sentenced to death,” Arthur pointed out obstinately. 

“Gods, Arthur!” Morgana cried. “Have you lost your mind? Agravaine is up there with Uther now. He’s been up there all day! I don’t know what he’s been saying but… well, there’s talk now that Uther will have you burned at the stake for sorcery!”

“He won’t,” Arthur stated. He managed to say it without the slightest tremor in his voice, completely belying the way that her words made him feel inside. “I’m his son and heir. There’s nobody else he can name. He’ll shout and rant, but in the end he’ll give in, you’ll see.”

Morgana gazed at him sadly, her eyes welling up with tears. “But there is someone else, Arthur. Uther had an affair. There was a child.”

“What?” Arthur and Merlin both exclaimed together.

“Who is he?” Arthur demanded. “It will be some pretender to the throne, someone who has suddenly come forward because they’ve heard what’s going on and are chancing their hand! They won’t be genuine!”

A single tear spilled over and ran down Morgana’s face. She made no move to brush it away, her gaze never leaving Arthur’s.

“It’s me, Arthur. Believe me, I’m as shocked as you are. Uther had an affair with my mother. He’s only now admitting it. I don’t even know what to think! He’s not my father! My father’s dead and buried. He was a good man, a kind man! He would never, ever do something like this! Like… I mean like burning his child, or having an affair, or _anything!_ ”

Arthur just stared at her, dumbstruck. He’d known Morgana most of his life, she was like a sister to him anyway. But to have it suddenly thrust upon him that she really _was_ his sister was a total shock. 

“Well say something then!” Morgana snapped when the silence started to become overpowering.

There was only one thing he could say, really. “I’m sorry you’ve been hurt by what I’m doing. But I’ll be proud to have you as my sister.”

Morgana looked quite taken aback by that for a moment, then her expression broke into a tearful smile and she hugged him again. “And I’ll always be proud to have you as my brother,” she told him. “My dear, brave, _stupid_ brother! Please, Arthur, I want to be old and grey and have lived through your long and brilliant reign for most of my life! And especially now, I really want to see all the great things that you’ll do! But you can’t do any of them if you die now over this!”

Merlin had been standing there watching them, his mouth hanging slightly open at the revelation about Morgana’s parentage. But he perked up at Morgana’s words and stood beside her, nodding vigorously in agreement.

“Talk to your father,” Merlin agreed. “Ask to see him, tell him you’ve changed your mind. Please, Arthur.”

“I’ll tell him you want to speak to him,” Morgana decided. “I’ll go up there now and demand an audience for you. Tell him you were wrong…”

“I’m not wrong.”

“That doesn’t matter! You’re as stubborn as each other, like father like son, but I _know_ that if you appear to give in to him now he’ll spare you.”

“I’ll still have magic. It won’t change the law, it won’t help anyone.” He glanced at Merlin, who he would have expected to be more torn over the issue. But no, Merlin was still looking as determined as ever to have Arthur take what Arthur saw as the coward’s way out. Merlin was going to be very disappointed, because Arthur didn’t do easy options.

“You staying alive will help many people,” Merlin told him. “Letting Uther burn you or whatever he has planned won’t help anyone.”

“Merlin’s right,” Morgana agreed. “Come on, Arthur. This has to stop before it goes too far. Say you’ll renounce your magic, never use it, ever. Let Uther think he’s won. It will still give magic users hope. They’ll know that when your time comes to reign then they’ll be safe.”

“A golden age,” Merlin added. “Your reign, Arthur. You’ll be the greatest king that Camelot has ever known.”

They both looked so earnest, so desperate for him to agree. It went so much against his character to do so, but he could feel his resolve wavering.

“I could speak to him, I suppose…”

“And renounce the use of magic?” Merlin checked. The hypocrite, although Arthur couldn’t tell him that in front of Morgana.

“I haven’t even had a chance to try it out properly yet! But fine! If that’s what it will take to stop the pair of you looking at me as if I’m some precious child that needs protecting!”

“Ah Arthur,” Morgana smiled for the first time since she’d entered the cell, “that’s exactly what you are!”

She really didn’t need to look so pleased with herself about it.

\---

A couple of nights in the cells would have helped Arthur see reason, Uther was sure of it.

It had been a surprise the previous evening to see Morgana. His newly-acknowledged daughter had stormed out earlier, shouting that she was never speaking to him again and that he was… well, he wasn’t going to reflect further on the various things that Morgana had told him that he was. Yet she had returned later, much calmer, with the news that Arthur wished to speak with him and was ready to see reason.

Still, it had been late and Uther was not going to allow his hot-headed son to see any weakness. That wouldn’t be good for either of them. No, Arthur could fret. It would make him less likely to ever wish to show off his affliction in the future. It could be hidden and all would be well.

It wasn’t entirely a surprise when both Morgana and Arthur’s manservant accompanied him to the throne room in the morning. The manservant tended to follow Arthur everywhere. Really Uther was quite smug that he’d chosen such a loyal and devoted attendant for Arthur, although there was of course the _other_ aspect of Merlin’s attendance on Arthur which was less pleasing. But they didn’t flaunt it too badly, and it was the least of Uther’s current worries anyway. Agravaine had also put in an appearance. He claimed it was support for Uther. Perhaps he was more of a friend than Uther had ever realised.

“Arthur,” Uther greeted his son when Arthur stood before him. “I trust you have had the opportunity to consider the situation?”

Arthur didn’t look at all happy. Uther wondered if Morgana and Merlin were there because the two of them had persuaded Arthur to change his mind and were now making sure he went through with it. That wouldn’t be a bad thing. Morgana would be a useful advisor to her brother when he was king. And perhaps Merlin’s mental affliction wasn’t quite as bad as Uther had assumed.

“I have, Father,” Arthur told him. “I am willing” – he glanced at Morgana, who gestured for him to continue – “not to use this gift I have been given…”

“Gift?” Agravaine queried. “It’s not a gift, Arthur, it is a curse. Surely you see that?” He turned to Uther, his face a mask of concern. “Your majesty, this is evidence of what we spoke about.”

Agravaine was still insisting that Arthur had been spirited away and left a changeling in his place. Uther had always assumed that these were children, but apparently it could happen to adults too.

“I am willing not to use it,” Arthur confirmed. “Gaius will teach me how to do this.”

“And you agree that magic is evil and renounce the use of it entirely?” Uther asked. 

He had hoped that Arthur would simply say yes. That was the only word that Arthur needed to say. But Arthur didn’t seem to understand that.

“I will not use magic, I swear,” Arthur told him. 

“Because magic is evil,” Uther prompted, when nothing more appeared to be forthcoming.

“Arthur!” Merlin hissed, but Arthur shook his head.

“Anything used to hurt innocent people is evil,” Arthur said. “And sometimes, Father, some of the people you’ve put to death have been innocent. They were only guilty of doing good things, making crops grow or healing a sick family member. That doesn’t make them bad people. But as I said, I will not use magic. It’s not as if I have very much ability anyway.”

It was not what Uther was looking for. He gripped the arm of his throne tightly, trying to control the anger he felt at his foolish son. 

“Arthur, I am giving you one last chance!”

Arthur stared back at him defiantly. He reminded Uther so much of Ygraine when he had that expression. Not that she would have ever stood in the throne room and defied him as Arthur was. But later, alone, she would have spoken her mind.

“You see, Uther?” Agravaine said smoothly, leaning towards the throne. “Arthur would never say these things, you raised him too well. This is not your son, it’s not my sister’s son either. It’s just an evil changeling.”

Arthur, or whatever it was, raised an eyebrow incredulously. “A _what_?”

Agravaine didn’t acknowledge him. “As much as it pains me, you know what you must do. There is only one way to restore your son. To restore my beloved nephew.”

“Fire…” Uther breathed. He saw the changeling’s eyes widen in shock. Perhaps it had thought that it had him fooled. But Agravaine was correct. Arthur would never stand against the laws of Camelot in that way. Somewhere the real Arthur was trapped, waiting for them to save him. Uther was not going to let him down.

“You can’t…” Morgana breathed. “Uther, don’t. This is so wrong. Don’t do it.”

“Changeling,” Uther addressed the creature before him. He didn’t know how else to refer to it. It wasn’t Arthur Pendragon, that was for sure. “You have been found guilty of practising sorcery. The penalty for that crime is death.”

“No!” Uther wasn’t sure if that was Morgana or Merlin. Perhaps it was both.

“You have also been found guilty of kidnapping and impersonating our beloved son Arthur Pendragon. It is known that the only way to restore the victim of a changeling is to immerse the changeling in fire. That is your sentence. It will be carried out at first light. Do you have anything to say?”

The creature just stared at him in horror. All the colour had drained from its face. Perhaps it had thought he would never go through with the penalty, not when it had so skilfully taken on the form of his son.

“You can’t do this!” Morgana screamed. “Uther, this is Arthur! You can’t! You mustn’t!”

“Take it back to the cells,” Uther ordered.

That seemed to make the changeling remember how to speak. It called back when the guards moved to take it away.

“It’s not magic that’s evil, Father. It’s you. You.”

Agravaine stepped in front of the throne, blocking Uther’s view as the creature was led away. “You’re doing the right thing,” he said kindly. “Such a brave stance to take. That _thing_ looks so much like Arthur. Hopefully we’ll have the real Arthur back in the morning.”

Uther nodded, unable to trust himself to speak. He prayed that he was doing the right thing. If he wasn’t then it didn’t bear thinking about.

\---

Morning. 

It arrived just like any other, except Arthur had watched it through the small window high up in the cell wall. Sleeping, after all, had not been an option. Not when he was condemned to sleep forever once the sun had fully risen.

He still couldn’t believe that his father was going to go through with it. The brilliant plan that had seemed so easy, so flawless, had failed miserably. And it was too late now to turn around and say that he rejected magic, that he had been wrong. Agravaine would be right there at his father’s side, dripping slow poison into his ear for whatever benefit that he thought he was going to achieve from it. And Arthur would die.

Outside he could hear the castle waking up, people going about their business. Soon cook would begin breakfast, the servants running up to the Great Hall to serve his father and Agravaine. And Morgana, presumably, unless she was locked in her rooms for insubordination. Because Arthur knew that she would not have accepted this quietly and would have gone back again later to tell Uther exactly what she thought. 

And then their father would go out on the balcony, stand there and give the order for his son to die. It made Arthur nauseated just to think of it. 

“I won’t let this happen,” Merlin promised him. 

Merlin had not slept either, the pair of them entwined together in the straw on the cold floor of the cell. It hadn’t been the most comfortable place for their last night. But Arthur was glad Merlin had been there. There was nobody he would rather have shared it with. Of course Merlin had cried after they’d made love, because he was such a girl. Arthur felt like crying himself, but he had been raised to believe that tears were a sign of weakness so his face stayed dry. He’d teased Merlin, but only gently. 

Arthur supposed that ‘I won’t let this happen’ meant that Merlin intended either climbing up on the pyre and dying too, or using his magic to try to stop it happening. And both options would have the same result, of course. Merlin would be killed. But then Merlin had always sworn he would die at Arthur’s side. And Arthur didn’t think he’d want to live on without Merlin anyway.

But Morgana was going to need all the friends she could get if she was now going to be crown princess. And he didn’t want Merlin dead.

“You have to,” Arthur told him. “I want you to live. Be there for Morgana.”

“I’m supposed to be there for _you_!”

Merlin had sometimes mentioned a great prophecy involving them both. He would talk of destiny and dragons and sides of coins and other such twaddle. Arthur liked to hear him say that they were meant to be together, so he always let him prattle on. 

“You always say I’m supposed to bring magic back to the land,” Arthur reminded him gently. “I think this is how I do it. This is the great destiny you’re always talking about. I knew magic was good because you’ve shown me that it is. And now it’s Morgana who will be queen one day, and she’ll be the one who changes the law.”

“No!” Merlin insisted. “It’s you! It’s always been you!”

“Yes,” Arthur agreed. “And it’s always been you, Merlin.” He kissed him, long and slow, aware it could be the last time. There were footsteps on the stone stairs leading down to the dungeons, he could hear them. “Promise me you’ll live?”

Merlin’s tear-streaked face looked back at him sadly and made no such promise.

\---

It was different, walking out there towards the pyre instead of watching it dispassionately from above.

Down in the courtyard the crowd that had gathered was on the same level as him. He could see their faces, all of them watching him. For the most part they looked sad, some were even crying. Then there were those who loved to see anybody from the ruling class brought down, people who had grievances and felt they had been unjustly treated in the past. Those people were grinning at him, sneering contemptuously. 

“Not so mighty now, are you your highness?” he heard one man call. A moment later there was a cry of pain from the same direction. Arthur didn’t look around to see who had stood up for him. It didn’t matter what anyone said at that point, the words were meaningless. It was the pyre rising up in front of him that would be unbearable.

Up on the balcony he could see his father. Uther was white as a sheet, his tense expression radiating misery. He seemed to be gripping the low wall fronting the balcony, leaning forward over the edge, his gaze never leaving Arthur. 

It still wasn’t too late, Arthur told himself. All he needed to do was keep his nerve. His father would not burn him, not when it came down to it. He was sure of it. He was. Really.

Leon was standing at the front of the crowd. He was no longer wearing his armour or the red cloak of a Camelot knight, though he still had his sword at his side and was dressed in clothes suitable for travel. Next to him were Gwen and Gaius. Gaius looked distraught, trying to comfort Gwen who was sobbing bitterly on his shoulder. There were several others standing with Leon, all knights, all no longer dressed in Camelot livery.

As Arthur walked past, the knights bowed to him, deep and respectful.

Merlin was nowhere in sight, nor Morgana. Arthur had no doubt they would both appear. He feared what Merlin might do. It could upset everything if Uther saw that Merlin had magic. Agravaine would probably say Merlin was the cause of all the trouble and have him burned as well. Tortured first, probably, to try to obtain the location of the supposed real Arthur.

It was Sir Bedivere who was leading him out. He’d never liked Arthur much. Arthur had been too good a swordsman too young in his life for Bedivere’s liking. Being bested by someone not much older than a squire had been difficult for the older knight to accept. And perhaps Arthur had been arrogant when he was younger. Before Merlin had arrived to put him right. Bedivere wasn’t looking at Arthur, just marching straight ahead, getting junior knights to flank Arthur in case of an escape attempt.

Arthur wasn’t going to try to escape.

He had his speech planned. He would be speaking out against the magic ban. Perhaps his father really did believe that the man being burned wasn’t Arthur, but eventually he would realise the truth and know what he had done. There would be a reaction, a revolution of sorts. And then people like Merlin would be safe. Merlin would be safe. 

Arthur climbed up onto the pyre himself. He wasn’t going to let anyone see how afraid he was. But he’d seen enough people die in that way to know it wasn’t going to be an easy death. He would make it a good one though. Even if he screamed, like they all did, cried and begged. There would be the reason behind it. The cause.

One of the guards bound his hands. Arthur could feel the man fumble with the rope, struggling with the task.

“I’m sorry,” he heard whispered in his ear. “This is wrong.”

Arthur nodded. He knew.

Up on the balcony, Uther was still watching. He looked ashen. Arthur met his gaze, nodded to him.

“It’s not too late to stop this, Father,” he called.

Uther looked for a moment as if Arthur had struck him simply by speaking. But Agravaine moved to his side and spoke quietly to him, and whatever ground Arthur might have gained was lost.

And then Merlin came racing into the courtyard, Morgana right behind him.

“Stop!” Morgana cried. “Stop this now!”

Bedivere was walking towards the pyre with a torch. He hesitated, looking up to Uther for confirmation.

“Stop!” Morgana shouted again. She and Merlin rushed right up to the pyre together. “This is wrong!”

The torch immediately sputtered out in Bedivere’s hands. He dropped it as if it were infected.

“Sorcery!” Agravaine yelled from the balcony. “Uther! You see? If more proof were needed.”

Arthur knew where that particular sorcery would have come from. Merlin had been facing away from him when it happened, but Arthur could imagine the tell-tale flash of gold in his eyes. How could nobody have seen? 

But Merlin was a servant, and everyone would have been watching Morgana rush in, not him. She stood in front of the pyre, her back to Arthur, facing Uther.

“Morgana, get away from there!” Uther called down. 

Morgana glanced back at Arthur, her expression determined. Then she turned back to defy Uther.

“Is that why you locked me in my room, _Father_?” she called. “To keep me away?”

That explained why she hadn’t been there when he was led out, Arthur realised. And presumably where Merlin had gone when Arthur had been taken from the cell, given that she and Merlin had emerged together.

While Morgana was talking, Merlin climbed up onto the pyre.

“No, Merlin,” Arthur warned. “Don’t risk your life for me. We agreed.”

“You agreed. And you know me, I never listen!” Merlin quipped. He had a knife in his hands, even though he could have freed Arthur from the bonds with just a flip of his magic. Perhaps he had listened just a little, Arthur thought, as the knife cut through the ropes and his hands were freed.

“Stop the servant!” Agravaine shouted. “He’s freeing the prisoner!”

Bedivere took a step towards the pyre, but Leon intercepted him. The grip Leon had on Bedivere’s arm looked, Arthur knew, deceptively gentle. It would be a huge loss to Camelot, losing the most loyal of knights.

“We can escape,” Merlin hissed. “Leon’s got horses saddled ready. We can head for Ealdor, if we ride hard we could be across the border before nightfall.”

“And be hunted all our lives?”

“If that’s what it takes. We’d be alive! Come on!”

Arthur shook his head. “I won’t run.”

“And I won’t leave you.”

Merlin wouldn’t, Arthur knew. Looking up at the balcony, at his father, Arthur offered up silent prayers to the gods of the forests, to every deity he had ever been taught about. 

_Let me be right about this. And if I’m not, then please gods, at least spare Merlin…_

Uther stared down at them, grim as ever. It was impossible to tell his thoughts.

\---

Uther Pendragon prided himself on being a decisive man. 

It was an important trait for a leader, a king. And yet from the moment Arthur had been struck down with the vilest and cruellest of ailments – sorcery – Uther hadn’t been entirely sure what to do.

Agravaine was certain that the man down in the courtyard was not Arthur, and that burning him would bring back Uther’s real son. He did not appear to have any qualms at all about the sentence. But what if he was wrong? What if that really was Arthur down there? Uther couldn’t kill his own son. 

“We should light the fire immediately, my king,” Agravaine advised, right on cue. 

And then there was Morgana. She’d been so angry with him about Arthur. More angry about that than she was about the discovery of her true parentage. He had been concerned that she would come down and disrupt the proceedings. That was why he had shut her in her rooms. Doubtless it had been Merlin who freed her. The servant was loyal to Arthur, but shamefully disloyal to his king.

And yet if it really was Arthur, was Merlin truly wronging Uther? 

“Wait,” Uther replied. “Just, wait.”

So many people down there appeared to believe that it was Arthur. And Arthur was standing on the unlit pyre, having made no move to escape even though that wretched manservant of his had clearly sliced through the bonds that were holding him there. He was looking up at Uther, his gaze sad yet calm. Merlin was talking to him, no doubt frantically begging him to run, but Arthur was staying put.

So very brave. Just as Uther had always taught him.

“The princess should go back inside, this is no place for her,” Agravaine attempted again. 

Morgana was down there, defending her brother. Uther had never realised Morgana and Arthur liked each other so much. 

“My lady,” Agravaine called. “Do go inside, you shouldn’t watch this.”

He might have called her by some foul name, such was the hate-filled look that Morgana turned on Agravaine.

“You are nothing to me, Lord Agravaine. Do not assume that I don’t already know of your plans for me. I have seen it.”

Agravaine frowned. “Why, whatever does she mean?” he asked Uther. “Seen what, my lady?”

“I am not your lady. But I have seen you planning this. I didn’t understand it, why you were so keen to have Arthur killed, but I understand now. I saw it in a vision last night. You think you can gain the Camelot throne through Uther’s daughter! Through marrying me!”

“A seer,” Agravaine whispered. It was probably intended to be under his breath, but Uther heard. And even if he hadn’t, Morgana did not appear to be willing to hide any longer. Morgana and her dreams. The potions Gaius had given her to try to help. They never worked. How could they, when she had magic. The number of times she’d woken up screaming in the night… What had she seen?

A seer. She was a seer. And his son a sorcerer. 

“I’ve lived in fear for years,” Morgana continued. “No more. I would far rather die with my brother than be forced to wed someone as foul as you, Agravaine du Bois!”

Agravaine made an odd indignant noise halfway between a splutter and a cough. Morgana regarded him contemptuously for a moment, then turned her attention back to Uther.

“So you see, Uther, you will have no heir at all as both your children have magic. You can kill us both, and leave no legacy but that, or you can do as my brother asks and lift the ban. Your choice.”

And with that she hitched up her skirts and clambered up onto the pyre with Arthur and Merlin. Merlin even offered her his hand. Merlin wasn’t a sorcerer, but Uther felt he probably deserved execution simply for that one betrayal. 

Except Uther couldn’t do it. He wouldn’t do it. His children had backed him into a corner and there was only one way out. Much as he hated to do it, he had no choice.

“The ban on magic is lifted!” he shouted. “Clear the courtyard!”

Agravaine was edging away, Uther realised. And he realised something else – Morgana had spoken the truth. Until he had arrived, Uther had merely sent Arthur to his rooms. Eventually he would probably have let Arthur talk him around. It was only once Agravaine’s influence had begun that Uther had behaved badly. Yes, Uther realised, Agravaine had almost certainly orchestrated the entire thing.

Perhaps he had even planted the sorcerer who had caused the trouble in the first place, plotted with them to infect Arthur with magic?

“You knew that was Arthur all along,” Uther stated. “You tried to trick me into killing my own son.”

“Oh no,” Agravaine protested, still edging away. He was almost at the doorway onto the balcony. Uther supposed that as soon as he was through it Agravaine would be off and running. “I had no idea. I wished only to protect Camelot.”

“There is nothing more precious to me than my children!” Uther growled. “Nothing! Guards! Seize him!”

Agravaine ran. He didn’t get far.

\---

Dinner that evening was an uncomfortable experience to say the least.

Still, Arthur was glad to be there rather than the alternative. And it was good to be accepted by his father again, even if Uther did flinch slightly every time there was the slightest mention of magic.

Morgana didn’t seem to want to stop talking about it. Arthur wished that he’d known earlier about her powers. She must have felt so alone, so frightened. And her visions were going to be such an amazing help in the future to them all. He made sure that she knew all of that. The two of them might never completely recover from the shock of what their father had almost done, but Arthur was determined that he and Morgana would always stand shoulder to shoulder in future. 

His own magic wasn’t particularly useful. He flicked a tiny spark at one of the candles, causing it to flare up momentarily.

“Please, Arthur, not at the table,” Uther requested wearily. He held out a goblet to Merlin. “More wine.”

Merlin brought over a flagon, and began to fill Uther’s goblet. 

“It must be strange for you, boy,” Uther told Merlin. “Suddenly serving sorcerers. At least I have one non-magic user here!”

Arthur bit his lip, trying not to laugh. Morgana rolled her eyes, because they’d told her by then. Merlin nodded respectfully. 

“Yes, your majesty. Just the one.”

\-----


End file.
